Chapter 290 - 178: October Arrives
The moment he said it, the press conference hall erupted as if a bombshell had been dropped.
Every reporter and media member scrambled to raise their cameras, the flashes nearly drowning Li Wei’s face. Many were like sharks that had smelled blood, desperately pushing forward, hands waving, trying to pry a few more controversial, headline-worthy soundbites out of the arrogant rookie.
However, Li Wei just glanced at the exasperated reporter from The Washington Post with a smile, pushed aside the microphone, and headed backstage under the escort of security. He left the media with nothing but the sight of his confident retreat.
Offstage, Don Quixote and Chen Haisheng stood in the shadows.
"Did you see that?" Don Quixote asked abruptly.
"What? I mean... I saw," Chen Haisheng said hurriedly. "Mr. Li Wei’s performance was certainly impressive."
"Li Wei’s commercial value and exposure are sky-high right now. His every word and action is under the media spotlight," Don Quixote said, shaking his head. "Those paparazzi, those reporters, are practically putting him under a microscope."
"So, you mean..."
"To keep from getting Facked by others, we have to be prepared," Don Quixote said. "We need a team. A professional publicist, a personal assistant, a bodyguard... I need a special forces unit."
"Mr. Don Quixote," Chen Haisheng stepped forward, "I am willing to go through hell and high water for you, it is my bounden duty to—"
"Hmm?" Don Quixote turned to glance at him, a strange look on his face. "You’re still a rookie. I can’t fully trust you."
Chen Haisheng was forced to swallow the end of his impassioned pledge.
"But I do have a task for you," Don Quixote said, patting Chen Haisheng’s tense shoulder and lowering his voice. "Your first real test as an assistant."
Chen Haisheng immediately held his breath, his focus absolute.
"That guy who just asked the question, the reporter from The Washington Post," Don Quixote said, pointing to the man currently taking pictures of Li Wei’s departing back. "His question was a little too emotional, and it didn’t feel very professional. I want you to look into him."
"Your main goal is to find out: was he acting on his own, trying to get attention and make a name for himself by taking a shot at Li Wei? Or was this an order from the higher-ups at The Washington Post? Or did a competitor slip him some money to do it?"
Don Quixote had intended to stop there, but seeing Chen Haisheng’s young face and considering his background, he continued:
"Remember the rules I emphasized in the skybox," Don Quixote said, staring into Chen Haisheng’s eyes. "I want you to use your network of less-than-reputable contacts to gather intelligence, to investigate, not to ’solve’ the person who asked the question."
"Do not, under any circumstances, reveal your connection to Li Wei. Absolutely no violence. And do not act on your own," he stressed repeatedly. "Otherwise, you’ll bring trouble not only on yourself, but on Chinatown as well. Understand?"
Chen Haisheng took a deep breath and nodded, indicating he understood.
"Good," Don Quixote said, straightening Chen Haisheng’s suit lapel. "Go on."
Watching Chen Haisheng leave, Don Quixote once again surveyed the press conference hall.
’This is a stage for fame and fortune, a place that corrupts everyone.’
’Li Wei doesn’t need to know about this. As his only family, his only elder, I’ll handle these things myself. All Li Wei needs to do is become a superstar, the one everyone’s eyes are on.’
Still, Li Wei’s comments today really were too cocky. He shook his head as he watched the reporters, who were still chattering and exchanging information. ’Perhaps it’s time to accelerate the team-building process.’
So, the next day, while he and Li Wei were discussing recent endorsement offers, he brought the matter up.
"Sure," Li Wei said, leaning back on the sofa and watching a talk show on TV. "Build a team. That way you won’t be so exhausted either."
"And you said Mercedes and Rolex have been looking at me?" Li Wei asked after a moment’s thought. "How much money are we talking about?"
"Not sure," Don Quixote said. "But it would be at least on par with your salary."
"A hundred million USD a year?" Li Wei whistled. "Now that’s not bad at all."
"That’s if you win the Super Bowl," Don Quixote nodded. "Which is why I think it’s essential to build a small team, to keep you in peak condition and free from outside distractions."
"I think so too," Li Wei said, though his focus was elsewhere. "I’m just thinking your cut of this is pretty high now. You should take some time for yourself, spend some money, live a little."
"This is when I’m needed most," Don Quixote said, shuffling the documents and reports in his hand. "Before you actually land those nine-figure super-endorsement deals, we need to have a foundational structure in place. So I’ve drafted an initial team proposal."
He pushed a financial report in front of Li Wei, which listed clear data models and expense estimates.
"I need 2.87 million USD in startup capital," Don Quixote said, pointing to the categories on the table and explaining them one by one. "This money will mainly be used for three things. First, personnel. We need to hire a core team of five people."
"Uh-huh." Li Wei nodded. "I’m looking."
"The specific positions include: a publicist with experience independently handling PR crises," Don Quixote said, "a lawyer well-versed in commercial contracts and intellectual property, a certified public accountant familiar with New York state and federal tax law, a full-time personal assistant and wellness specialist on 24-hour call, and a head of security with a professional protection background."
Li Wei glanced at the list of personnel. These were indeed the five most urgently needed roles—at least, in Don Quixote’s opinion.
Don Quixote looked at the silent Li Wei and said no more, sitting down across from him.
Lily came running over with her phone, leaned in close to Don Quixote’s ear, and whispered, asking where Chen Haisheng had gone, as she had a riding lesson soon.
Don Quixote whispered back that he would take Lily himself in a bit, as Chen Haisheng had other arrangements.
After Lily ran off, Li Wei remained silent.
"And... then there’s hardware and office space," Don Quixote continued, clearing his throat twice. "We can’t always be conducting business from an apartment or a stadium skybox. So I plan to rent an office in the business district of Midtown Manhattan, equipped with comprehensive security."
"Uh-huh." Li Wei grunted. "Keep going."
"The rest of the funds will serve as the team’s base operational salary and contingency fund for the next year," he said. "This is to ensure the team can continue to operate efficiently during the off-season or in case of an emergency. So this 2.87 million USD is the entire budget for the five-person team’s annual salaries, office space, and equipment. What do you think?"
Li Wei nodded. "Let’s just make it 3 million USD. Don’t cut it so close."
"I’ll have my account manager transfer you 2 million USD first. Prioritize locking down the office space and key personnel. Get a headhunter if you need one," Li Wei said, picking up his phone. "I’ll cover the remaining 1 million after my next paychecks come in. I still have four games to play this month, so there’s no rush."
"Okay, 2 million is enough to cover the initial lease deposit and the headhunter," Don Quixote said, putting away his documents as a notification for the fund transfer popped up on his phone. "I’ll have the headhunting firm provide a list of candidates as soon as possible. Do you want to be there for the interviews?"
’The truth is, Li Wei didn’t really need a personal assistant or security. He believed that unless there were actual superheroes in this world, no one could protect him better than himself.’
’The same went for the wellness specialist. The strain of a regular game schedule didn’t faze him in the slightest, not to mention his body was completely restored every time he leveled up.’
’But to Don Quixote and the rest of the world, he still needed people like that to support him.’
’Forget him—even someone like Dexter Lawrence, who made far less than he did, had a ten-person team revolving around him.’
’You had to keep up appearances. Besides, this wasn’t an astronomical sum for him.’
’It was just two weeks’ salary, after taxes.’
Still, when he did the math, he was taken aback.
’The rise in social status inevitably led to a rise in the cost of living.’
He’d already spent seven or eight million USD in just the last little while.
After his last game, he had received another 1.44 million USD in salary, bringing his savings to over 3.1 million USD. Now, he was back down to just 1.1 million.
’Spending money like water,’ Li Wei mused, lying back on the sofa and continuing to watch The Ellen Show.
「October arrived, and with it, the quiet chill of early autumn descended on New York.」
The trees in Central Park began to lose their emerald green, gradually turning mottled shades of caramel and crimson.
A cold wind from the Atlantic Ocean funneled down the Hudson River valley and into the steel jungle of Manhattan, causing pedestrians on the street to switch to light windbreakers and wool coats.
However, in stark contrast to the cooling New York weather, Li Wei’s popularity across America was experiencing explosive growth.
Analysts on every major sports channel were practically breaking down Li Wei’s game footage from the season’s start, frame by frame.
On ESPN’s flagship data analysis program, the big screen constantly scrolled with Li Wei’s stats from his first three games. From a data analysis perspective, his performance, to be frank, had broken the normal distribution curve that had defined the NFL since its inception.
"Just look at his stats," said Joe Buck, who had become a standard Li Chui. "His completion percentage under duress is 82%. His escape rate from pressure in the pocket is an astonishing 100%. And the most despair-inducing thing for defensive coaches? On average, even when he’s being tackled, his physical strength allows him to push forward for another 8.5 yards."
"I know you’re a Li Chui," his old partner, Troy, said from across the desk, banging the table for emphasis, "but the theme of this segment is how to actually limit him."